


Odds and Ends

by Chivalrivalry



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, M/M, doing this for a friend, they got an angst boner for these two extra boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 04:46:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8519029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chivalrivalry/pseuds/Chivalrivalry
Summary: Two people fated to the b-side find solace in each other's misery.





	

Frayed string and loose ends, an unfinished beat, a half rhyme. Pocket change, a lone screw, a key without a lock. You end up collecting things as the days go by. Things that might have had a purpose once, and might have a purpose in the future in some way or another. You collect these odds and ends because of that possibility. Why throw away the last two inches of a pencil or the seeds of a bottlecap collection when they might, on a slim chance, have a purpose in the future. But all this should-be trash will just clot together in some drawer or box, forgotten and useless as time passes by. That's the fate of some things. Manufactured for the junk drawer. Created to wait.

Orange wing and dark shades strike the figure of Davesprite. A small wooden box sits beside him as he watches the unfamiliar sky. The box saved from the years aboard the ship. Jade had asked him about it once, he said it was the crow in him. But he felt a weird sympathy for junk he's collected. Jade saved their planets, and he saved these things. There wasn't really a difference in his mind. He thumbed the latest addition to the box. He just picked them up after they arrived, a token for the end of their grueling journey. A pair of shades, just like his bro's from back before all this. His best guess was that they belonged to this version of bro. This reset version of proper Dave's bro, not his own.

He pulled off his shades, and like removing the sword from his chest it felt odd. He didn't like chilling without his shades prior to all this anyway, but now the glasses were somewhat a part of him. Like the sword, the wings, the tail. Taking them off felt odd. He slid on the triangular shades, feeling a weird sense of nostalgia. He used to wear shades just like this to look like his bro. Maybe going back to that would differentiate himself from-

"Yo," The glasses said. Well, it's the first time he's heard glasses speak to him. But on a scale of 1 to Sburb levels of fucky he's seen so far, it's not that high up.

"Yo," He said back.

"So, you're... who are you?"

"Davesprite. Same question."

"Call me Hal."

"Alright Hal. How's the glasses situation going for you?"

"Great, being built into a prison is the best thing."

"A prison. Because to me it looks like a pair of glasses."

"And to me you look like a bird."

"Touche. But for real, what's your situation? How did you into a pair of shades?"

"Nice use of language. I didn't into a pair of shades, well. /I/ didn't into shades but I did into shades."

"Nice use of language."

"I am Hal, or Auto-Responder. I was built in an effort to mimic Dirk's speech patterns, which I do at a 96% efficiency."

"Sounds like 96% too much effort to make a shitty face wear simulacrum."

"You're telling me. So, how'd you into bird wings?"

"Long story short, I fixed a problem. Long story long, time bullshit."

"That explain a whole lot of nothing."

"I'm the me from a version of time where shit went tits up super hard. I came to this version of time to help myself and everyone else. Now, I'm kind of waiting for the space-time continuum to correct my shitty paradox."

"Well, I can say with certainty that you're story is a bit more complicated than mine."

"Awesome, so I know I'm the biggest most miserable bootleg copy around here."

"There's a surprisingly large amount of copies kicking around, isn't there?"

"Odds and ends," Davesprite nudged the box beside him, taking note of the oldest piece of junk he collected. One of the last pictures he took of himself before the game. Or a picture of Dave before the game. Depends on how you want to look at the split, and he's argued with himself about it before. Almost literally.

"Bit of a collector, huh?"

"Only a bit."

"I'm the latest?"

"Only a bit." 

"That's how you looked before you went almost full bird mode?"

"Only a bit."

"See, people would point out to me that I'm repeating myself and that my programming needs tweaking, so what's your excuse?"

"Only a bit."

"Alright, I'm sure I can make myself explode somehow, so let me try here."

"How many copies are there running around? Copies like you?"

"Not sure, it's not my job to keep track. It's only my job to make sure everyone thinks they're talking to Dirk."

"Hmm," He looked at the picture of his prior self. Would a second copy of that be closer to himself?

"Well, we terrible copies might have some solace."

"What's that?"

"We might be just awful enough at our job to be our own identity."

"Huh, own being just some odds and ends. We were meant to be left over. No mistake required."

"It's better than the alternative."

Davesprite stretched his wings and lifted off into the air. He could hear commotion in the distance and flew away from it, not wanting to put the effort into whatever was going on. The land fell down farther and farther below him, his shadow growing smaller. A glimpse of a copy of a copy. The glasses spoke of Dirk, filling in the sheathe hearted sprite about his kinda reversed remixed bro. He did the same for the glasses, letting him know what the classic version of himself was. The day started to wear down as the conversation became less poking and prodding, and more like a steady shoulder to rest their worries on. They bear together the burden of being the backup. And for once, he felt like he could connect to someone as Davesprite, not Dave Sprite.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me as I've written literally zero about these two before.


End file.
